


Choosing

by wunderxfunk



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 10:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3352973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wunderxfunk/pseuds/wunderxfunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 6x07 reaction where Blaine goes back to his apartment after seeing Kurt in the choir room. Maybe not the most plausible ending, but I needed to write a happy conclusion cuz sad Blaine breaks my heart in two and that’s no good at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choosing

“What happened?”

Blaine is confronted with Dave’s question as soon as he opens the front door, and he has to pause and close his eyes and breathe, arms hanging limply at his side with his keys dangling from his hand.  _Walter._  He feels exhausted, among other things—stupid and disappointed and… heartbroken all over again. Back to square one.

He begins to shake at the thought, and immediately he feels Dave envelop him in a tight hug. “Hey, buddy,” he says. “Blaine. Are you okay? What did he say?”

They broke up not an hour ago, and Dave is alreadystepping in to console him. It’s weird, though it  _should_ feel weirder. Either way, Blaine doesn’t have the energy to resist. He just lets himself be held for a moment in the doorway of their apartment, trying to get control over his trembling frame.

“He didn’t say anything,” Blaine says quietly.

Dave pulls back, his expression confused. “What do you mean? He walked away?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not?” Blaine doesn’t miss the flicker of unsure hopethat crosses Dave’s expression—it strikes him how incredibly unfair this is,discussing it. He should have gone someplace else, or found someone to talk to who wasn’t his ex-boyfriend.  _Except all of my close friends in this city are currently on a double date._

“He was with someone.” Blaine takes a step, guiding Dave inside and shutting the door. He leans against the counter, running his thumb along its edge where it’s sharpest, watching himself do so. He can still feel Dave staring, hovering nearby in case he bursts into tears or something. Suddenly, the comfort is stifling.

“Is it okay if we don’t talk about it?” he asks, his voice reedy in a way that makes him feel pathetic. He really  _isn’t_ going to cry, but he sounds like he is, and he hates that. “Maybe I’ll go get some coffee or something. I just need to be alone for a little bit.”

“Hey, no. You stay here,” Dave offers. “I was actually just about to go out…” He trails off, avoiding Blaine’s gaze.

“Already?” Blaine asks with disbelief. When Dave flashes him a guilty look, he surprises himself by laughing. Doing so removes some of the weight from his chest. “Jesus. We  _just_ broke up.”

Dave chuckles. “Well, I figured you’d be halfway through a marriage proposal or something. I’ve seen you two. Thought I’d better get started on trying to move on.”

Blaine shakes his head. Surprisingly, he isn’t upset about it—his amusement at the whole situation is genuine, even if there’s a dark cloud covering the whole evening. “You know, I’m not even surprised. You’re quite a catch, or so I’ve heard.”

“Whatever you say, Anderson.” Dave’s smile stays fixed on his face, rounding out his cheeks and making him squint just a bit. Somehow, there is nothing sad or bitter in it. Somehow, this is one part of Blaine’s life that is still  _okay_ , and he’s so grateful for it. “You’ll call me, right? If you need anything?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Dave. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” Dave pauses. “It’ll be okay, Blaine. He really loves you.”

Blaine doesn’t respond—just waits until Dave gets his jacket to wave goodbye, and then he’s alone.

Alone, Blaine still doesn’t cry, but he lets himself get close to it—he allows frustration to twist his mouth into a grimace and to make him squint. He lets his breath hitch. He curls up on the couch beneath the ridiculous, tie-dyed throw blanket off their bed, hiding himself in its cheery colors.

His therapist had mentioned that to him once. She’d pointed out one of Blaine’s bright outfits and asked him why. Of course, he didn’t have a straightforward answer to that, other than that he  _liked_ color. They had chatted about his tendency to sugar coat situations—to put on a bright smile and be energetic and power through. He’d done it with Kurt. He’d done it around his parents. The problem was, it rarely worked; something always cracked no matter how much he tried to pretend everything was okay.

Now, he cocoons himself in a veritable rainbow, the irony not lost on him.

After a while—a span of time that could be an hour but probably isn’t—he turns on the television for noise, but he doesn’t pay attention to the sports game that comes on when he presses the power button. All Blaine can think about is how he’d promised himself he wouldn’t ever go back to this place. Before he’d moved, he’d spent weeks this way in New York, ignoring class and ignoring calls and just doing  _nothing_.

He can’t do that now. He can allow himself this little bit, but he refuses to revert back to that state. In the month after the break-up, the grain of lonely terror inside of Blaine—the one that he’s had for as long as he can remember—had ballooned itself to monstrous proportions. A black hole sucking everything inside, making nothing else matter.

No. Not again. He won’t spend another week mourning the loss of Kurt Hummel when he never had him back to begin with.

Eventually, he gets up to make himself dinner, but when looking through cupboards makes him tired, he decides to order something instead.  _Just this once_. And then he retreats back to his cocoon to wait.

***

It’s nearly eight-thirty when there’s a knock at the door. Blaine has showered and changed out of his clothes into comfortable sweats, the actions making him feel somewhat better. He’s even a little eager when he goes to answer, tip in hand—also a good sign.

Except it’s not a delivery person. It’s Kurt.

Blaine pauses, genuinely caught off-guard and gripping onto the handle of his front door. Kurt is still dressed from his date, just as polished-looking as he always is, standing there with no idea that Blaine was almost ( _almost_ ) crying over him only an hour before. Kurt probably doesn’t understand how he changes the whole world. He just stands there looking beautiful.

“Is that for me?” He asks, a tiny smirk playing across his lips as he nods towards the bills in Blaine’s hand.

“Hi,” Blaine responds. He sounds like he just ran for miles. “Uh, no. I was expecting food.”

“Got it.” Kurt’s smile stays in place, though he seems to hesitate. “Is it a problem that I came? Is Dave here? I can come back another time…”

“No, come on in.” Blaine steps aside as Kurt enters, still a little dazed. Of course, he’s curious, but he’s not really _hopeful_  or much of anything else at all. “Do you want something to drink?”

Kurt doesn’t really seem to catch the question. He turns around once he’s in the kitchen and stares at Blaine in a way that makes him immediately self-conscious. He knows his hair must be drying and that there’s a hole in the hoodie he’s wearing.

Sure enough, Kurt observes, “You don’t look so good.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You just look exhausted.”

“Did you just come over to critique, or…”

“You were upset. Earlier,” Kurt says. “I don’t know—it might sound stupid—but I was worried that it was my fault. We didn’t exactly leave off on the cheeriest of notes at the party.”

Blaine is surprised by how sincerely nervous Kurt seems, and he wonders how difficult it was for him to come here.  Even now, he’s avoiding Blaine’s eye, drifting around the counter into the living room, glancing at the walls and the floor.

_I’m in love with you._

“I… it wasn’t that,” Blaine says, then reconsiders. “Well, yeah, it was kind of that, but—“

“You ran away,” Kurt points out, finally fixing him with a look that is so clearly full of hurt that it completely throws Blaine. The thought that he is the one who’s been sending mixed messages seems absurd… and then suddenly it doesn’t at all.

“I told Dave.”

“Did you really?” Kurt’s eyes widen, and he crosses his arms. His eyes flick to the door of the bedroom.

“He’s not here,” Blaine reminds him. “And he’s not upset, but we—“

“You broke up?”

“I guess we did, yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, too fast for it to be completely convincing, but the sentiment is still there. “I’m really sorry, Blaine. It’s my fault…”

“No. Well, maybe a little bit, but it was mostly me.” Blaine goes to take a seat on the couch—he doesn’t want to stand facing Kurt anymore. It reminds him of when they used to square off, arguing across the empty space of their apartment. Some of the worst things Blaine had ever said he’d said during those fights. Sitting was better. They almost never fought when they were sitting. They said “I love you” a lot more when they were sitting.

“It’s not,” Kurt says, seamlessly moving in and shifting the blanket so he can sit beside Blaine. “I know it’s no secret why I came back to Lima, but I’ve been trying not to meddle in your life. You’re happy now, and I suck at staying out of it, but I really didn’t mean to break you two up.”

“I don’t know that it would have lasted anyway. I’m obviously not over you, Kurt.”

“Maybe if you explain to him—“

“I came to McKinley today to tell you that I love you. That I don’t  _want_ to get over you. That you don’t have to win me back, because you  _have_  me.”

“You—“Kurt takes a second to process, his eyes flitting back and forth between Blaine’s. And then it clicks and their suddenly kissing, an uncalculating, desperate sort of kissing. Blaine can’t quite breathe, but he isn’t sure that he needs to anymore, until Kurt pulls away and he finally inhales. He’s disoriented to see that Kurt is  _crying_ , silent tears falling from his blue eyes as he blinks too quickly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, his voice a wreck.

“For what?”

“For everything. That it took me so long. I’m so  _sorry_.” Kurt covers his face with his hand, but Blaine reaches up to pull it away and brings their lips together one more time. It’s not difficult at all to do. He loves Kurt—loves him so much that kissing him is the greatest relief, and it shoves all the sadness in him aside until there’s only room for love.

“I forgive you,” he says, kissing Kurt once more on the cheek, tasting salt.

“You said you never would.”

“I know what I said. I was wrong.”

There aren’t words for a while after that. They stay, facing one another, kissing until Kurt’s no longer crying, and then for longer, Kurt’s arms around Blaine’s neck holding him there as if he would leave. He doesn’t even try. He just keeps pressing his lips to Kurt’s, seeking out more and more, and finding no resistance whatsoever. It’s incredible.

There’s a knock at the door, and they finally separate, both remembering the reality of a world around them.

“Please tell me that’s not Dave coming here to kick my ass.”

Blaine laughs—real, breathless laughter. “It’s my food. I told you, Dave’s not upset. He’s… actually on a date, I  _think._ ”

“Oh.  _Really?_ So soon?”

“Well, I kind of left to go confess my love to my ex-fiancé, so…”

“Ex,” Kurt repeats, mulling over the syllable, mouth twitching downwards.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Blaine asks, choosing not to push that just yet.

“Sure,” Kurt smiles. “I already ate, but I can stay.”

Blaine gets up to answer the door, and he begins unpacking the food in the kitchen. He hears Kurt behind him before he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“I never asked you how your double-date went,” he points out.

“Don’t even get me started. Rachel and Sam are cute together, I have to admit, but it’s kind of gross watching them make heart eyes for an hour.” Kurt gives Blaine’s arm a squeeze and then releases him. “And Walter… is a nice person.”

“Mhmm,” Blaine says, unsure what else to add.

“But he’s not you.” Blaine turns around to see Kurt standing close, clutching himself. It breaks his heart to see that he still looks unsure. Blaine reaches out, placing a hand on his cheek, and Kurt closes his eyes and sighs into it. “We’re really doing this,” he says.

“You want to?”

“Yes. I really, really do.” Kurt’s eyes flutter open, the color of his irises speckled and gorgeous in the light of the room. “I choose you.”

“I choose you too,” Blaine says. “Forever.”

“Forever,” Kurt agrees.


End file.
